


The Great American Road Trip

by SmileAndASong



Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), Marvel
Genre: Camping, Dramatic Tony Stark, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Happy Ending, M/M, Road Trips, Tony Stark-centric, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 23:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17517557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmileAndASong/pseuds/SmileAndASong
Summary: “You know, when you said you were going to take me on a romantic vacation, I sort of thought the transportation was going to be…well, not this,” Tony said, gawking at the monstrous RV in front of him because, wow, it sure was a sight to behold and definitely not in a good way.[AKA, Steve coerces Tony into taking a cross-country road trip]





	The Great American Road Trip

**Author's Note:**

> There's not too much to say about this one. I just wanted to write a silly, fluffy road-trip fic, featuring my beloved Avengers Assemble boys.
> 
> Special thanks to roseandthorns28 and brokeneisenglas for their beta work and kind words of encouragement!
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated, thank you so much for taking the time to read.

“You know, when you said you were going to take me on a romantic vacation, I sort of thought the transportation was going to be… well, not this,” Tony said, gawking at the monstrous RV in front of him because, wow, it sure was a sight to behold and definitely not in a good way. 

It was rusting all over, it had a giant American flag hanging off its side, a “Carter and Mondale ‘76” sticker on its bumper, and the license plate was from Idaho, of all places. How it made its way up to New York City, Tony did not know or care. How the hell his boyfriend got his hands on such a piece of crap and what his intentions were with said piece of crap, now _that_ he did want to know.

Steve chuckled and pulled open the squeaky RV door, the noise loud and piercing like nails on a chalkboard. “Tony, you can’t take a cross-country road trip without an RV. That’s kind of the whole purpose.”

“Okay, sure, but couldn’t you have gotten one that wasn’t so ‘broken in’?” Tony hesitantly followed Steve inside, where things didn’t get any better. 

The interior matched the disappointing and dated exterior to a tee, right down to the bright orange shag carpet that covered the entire floor. The decor didn’t have any uniformity or theming. All of the furniture looked like it had been picked up from thrift stores -- possibly even dumpsters -- and a lot of it looked like it would break if one were to stare for too long. 

The whole thing reeked overwhelmingly of strong incenses, most likely in an effort to conceal the underlying smell of marijuana that was indubitably enjoyed frequently by the vehicle’s original owners over forty years ago, and probably countless other renters since. 

It was easy to see why the vehicle appealed to stoners. Why it appealed to his naive, innocent boyfriend, though, was something Tony could not comprehend.

“And does it have to be so 1970’s?” Tony added, making no effort to hide his repulsion.

“Oh come on, it’s not so bad. Vintage is trendy, right? And besides, we both missed the 70’s, what with me being on ice, and you not being born, so think of this as us making up for lost time?” Steve tried, taking a seat on the tacky bright green couch in the living room area.

Tony snorted. “Some things might be better left in the past.” He stayed in the doorway, not daring to step inside any more than he had to. “This sure is one option for our vacation, but you know what else we can do? We can get the jet ready and go to one of my islands! The surf on Rogers is incredible this time of year.”

“I’m sure the waves on the island you named after me are lovely, but I don’t surf, and besides, we were just there last month.”

“Point taken, no tropics this time,” Tony said, waving his hand dismissively. “We can still get in the jet and go anywhere you want. Paris, Monaco, Beijing, Jupiter, you name it, and we’ll be there in a flash.”

“Tony.” Steve pat the spot beside him on the disgustingly green couch. Tony winced, but he did still come when beckoned; he just chose to sit in Steve’s lap instead of on the beer-stained cushion. 

“I love all the vacations you take me on, I do. I’ve seen more of the world than I could have ever dreamed because of you. But I’m Captain /America/, and I’ve seen so little of America outside of New York. Kind of hypocritical, don’t you think?”

Tony shrugged. “You’ve seen the best parts of America -- New York and California -- several times. No need to bother with all of that stuff in the middle.”

“The majority of the country is ‘in the middle’. I think that matters just a little, sweetheart.”

“Agree to disagree.”

“Anyway,” Steve continued. “I want to see my country - everysingle state and every bit of beauty it has to offer. And there’s no better way to do that than a road trip! But I want to do it on my terms, in my RV. You’ve given me so many amazing trips, now it’s my turn to do the same for you.”

Tony huffed. “I hate how good you are with words, it makes it impossible to argue with you and your perfect selflessness, how dare you.”

Steve chuckled. “What can I say, it’s a talent.”

“By every single state, are you counting Alaska and Hawaii too? Please tell me we are not going to drive across the Great White North and brave the Pacific in this thing.”

“No, just the continental states. We’ll go to Alaska and Hawaii on our next vacation and for that, yes, we can take the jet. I don’t think our little Winnebago is quite ready for a nautical experience,” Steve replied, his words eliciting a sigh of relief from Tony. “Think you can be ready to leave in an hour?”

“Can we make it two? I don’t think an hour’s enough time for a cleaning crew to get here and give this thing a deep cleanse, plus I need to pack enough clothes for all of the different climates we’re going to be in, and the wifi, I simply _must_ install wifi. I can’t go that long without wifi, Steve, you know this. I also gotta figure out how to get our bed i-” Tony paused when he noticed Steve was giving him the ‘look’, the one that said, ‘Tony, do you really want to finish that sentence?’

“I mean, sure, an hour sounds great,” Tony agreed, generally disinclined about the whole affair, but his willingness to concur earned him a delightful kiss from Steve -- a silent thanks of sorts -- so at least it wasn’t all for nothing.

“Great, that’ll give me just enough time to finish installing the mouse traps.”

Tony gagged, nearly adding another stain to the lumpy couch.

XXXXX

“Sweetheart, can you turn up the air conditioning? I’m boiling in here.”

“It’s already on max, honey.”

“Then pull aside and let me fix it.”

“I can’t, we’re on a tight schedule. We need to make sure we get at least 500 miles in today.”

 _I could do 500 miles in my suit in no time_ , Tony thought bitterly to himself. Maybe he should have just put on the suit and given Steve an aerial tour of America. It would have been a lot less hot and a lot less time consuming; they’d even be home in time for dinner at their favorite steakhouse. 

But no, instead they were coasting down a highway in Virginia, where it was -- according to the meteorologist on the radio -- a record high temperature for the month of July. 

He thought longingly of New York strip steaks and fingerling potatoes as he begrudgingly opened another bag of Cheetos from their last gas station stop. 

Tony was sporting quite the look, one that perfectly depicted all the ‘fun’ of road trips. His hair was flat, stringy, and coated in sweat; his fingers were stained in that infamous nuclear orange Cheeto color; he was clad in nothing but his Captain America shield boxers, which were also covered with the artificial cheese dust; It was a pretty far cry from the lovely three-piece Armani suit he had been photographed in for Vogue less than 24 hours ago. Back when he had been content and basking in the modern marvel that is air-conditioning, back when he had been blissfully unaware of just how /hot/ a 1975 Winnebago RV could be.

Tony missed his ignorance. 

Meanwhile, Steve looked as cool as the ice he had been encased in for seventy some odd years. He even had all of his clothes on still; Tony had abandoned most of his an hour into the trip.

Steve turned to Tony and smiled brightly at him, the very same smile that had been permanently plastered on his face since they made it through the Lincoln Tunnel. At first, Tony had found it mesmerizing and vivacious, whereas now, it felt like Steve was mocking him with it, be it intentional or not.

“Did you know that eight U.S. Presidents were born in Virginia? Virginia has produced more presidents than any other state,” Steve informed, as though it was the most fascinating and pressing piece of knowledge in the whole world. Steve had taken it upon himself to ‘liven up the trip’ by sharing a fun fact about each state they visited, and boy, did he have a _lot_ of facts.

So far, Tony had learned that New York has the world’s first ever railroad and it is 11 miles long, New Jersey has the most toxic waste dumps in the country, Pennsylvania is where soft pretzels originated, Delaware was the first state to ratify the U.S. Constitution, and Maryland’s official sport is jousting.

“Mmm, fascinating,” Tony said dully, wiping the sweat off his brow.

“George Washington, James Madison, James Monroe, William Henry Harrison, John Tyler, Zachary Taylor, and Woodrow Wilson are the presidents from Virginia,” Steve continued, Tony nodding and feigning interest for the sake of Steve’s ego. “Just in case you were wondering.” He wasn’t. 

Tony grunted. He took a deep breath in an attempt to maintain his composure, repeatedly telling himself that Steve meant well, that Steve was doing this for him, for them. 

“That’s very nice, sweetheart, and while I love all the research that you’ve done to keep this trip _highly_ entertaining, do you think we could maybe take a little break from the fun facts? I think I've learned more than enough about my country for a while” Tony suggested, trying to keep his voice as even and as neutral as possible. It wasn’t completely devoid of snark, but Steve’s smile remained on his face, so he didn’t seem to notice or care.

“Good thinking, gotta keep you anticipating about what the North Carolina fact is going to be,” Steve said.

Tony hummed. “Oh you know me, I’m on the edge of my seat waiting...”

Things went quiet, but the silence was not unwelcomed, no, it was actually sort of nice. Tony looked out the window, attempting to enjoy the serenity of the moment, searching for any semblance of entertainment that the Virginia highway could provide for him.

It was almost, _almost_ , a nice, tranquil moment. But then Steve decided -- for some ungodly reason -- that it would be a great idea to punch him on the shoulder.

Tony jolted forward, whipping his head around to face Steve. “What the hell was that for?”

“Punch buggy!” Steve pointed out the window as they drove past a blue Volkswagon beetle. “Blue one.”

Tony rubbed his shoulder, glaring at the car as if it was somehow the driver’s fault for also deciding to drive down I-64 at that particular moment. “I thought we were done with the game after that green one back in Jersey.”

Steve laughed. “Of course not! You get to punch every time you see one drive by, that’s the whole point of the game.” Steve punched Tony’s shoulder again. “Punch buggy! Red one!” Steve pointed out the window because _of course_ another one was driving by in a cruel twist of fate, like a giant ‘fuck you, Tony Stark’ from the entire state of Virginia.

Tony whined, his hand caressing over his now slightly black and blue shoulder. Steve obviously didn’t punch him as hard as he could have, but it still was with a decent amount of vigor. His darling boyfriend didn’t know his own strength, sometimes, especially when he was excited. “Are you sure we can't afford to stop for a bit? We’ve been on the road all day. How are you supposed to see your beloved country if we just drive through everything?”

“Are you kidding? We can see plenty right here from the comfort of our seats. Just look at how beautiful Virginia is, look at those trees, look at the sky!” Steve marveled animatedly, pointing at each of the sights as he named them. “Most of the trip is going to be spent on the go like this. Starting tomorrow, I’m probably going to have to drive over a thousand miles a day to make sure we get done in a timely manner, so that’ll mean even less stopping. But you know how the saying goes, it’s about the journey over the destination!”

Tony bit back a passive aggressive comment about how much the journey had sucked thus far. Even in his mildly frustrated state, he couldn’t bear the thought of crushing Steve’s sheer joy with his own bitterness.

“I’m gonna go lie down in the bedroom.” Tony decided, figuring that excusing himself would be ideal before he said something he would later regret. He also would hate to break their impressive track record -- 298 days -- of no fighting. He rose to his feet, shaking off the excess Cheeto dust that littered his sticky body, the dust blending seamlessly into the equally as blindingly orange carpet.

“Alright, honey, you rest up. Do you want me to wake you when we get to North Carolina?” Steve offered.

“No,” Tony responded immediately, probably answering too quickly. “I mean...no, thank you. Just give me the North Carolina fact once I’m awake again, alright?” Tony kissed Steve's cheek before turning on his heel and starting his trek back to the RV's sad excuse for a bedroom.

“Sounds good, you sleep well. Oh, and remember to watch out for the-” Steve began, but was cut off by a loud snapping noise, followed by a string of colorful language from Tony. “-mouse traps.” 

Steve looked over his shoulder, but only briefly since he was driving. “Everything alright, baby?”

Tony hissed, rubbing at his big toe which was now a dark shade of purple and throbbing. Stupid traps, stupid nonexistent mice. “Just peachy, angelface...” He kicked the snapped trap to the side, storming off to the bedroom and slamming the door shut behind him.

Another loud snapping noise came from the bedroom, along with more explicit language, and what sounded like something being thrown out a window before there was a seemingly peaceful silence in the RV.

Forty-two more states to go.

XXXXX

It was about ten o’clock when they, or rather, Steve, decided to stop for the night. They ended up just outside of Raleigh, North Carolina - a city Tony had never visited, nor had he ever had a desire to visit.

Tony was beyond ready to take a break from driving for the night. Any more time in the monstrosity known as the Winnebago From Hell -- the not-so-affectionate, not terribly clever nickname Tony had bestowed upon the RV -- and he’d probably be tempted to throw himself out the window much like the forsaken mousetrap.

To Tony, stopping for the night meant a luxurious hotel with air conditioning, a toilet that could actually be flushed, a bed where the springs were not popping out, and most importantly, his beloved WiFi.

To Steve, stopping for the night apparently meant the woods, a big plug to charge the vehicle as the only source of electricity, a tiny cabin containing nothing but a toilet and a very small shower, and a whole lot of dirt.

“You can’t be serious,” Tony said as he watched Steve start to pitch a tent, losing any fleeting hope he had that this was just a very bad attempt at humor from his boyfriend.

“You act like this is the first time we’ve been camping. You’re the one that took us to the Savage Land, remember?” Steve said, kneeling down to hammer a stake of the tent into the grass.

“I was trying to win a bet and I thought that was the surefire way. Besides, I hated every moment of it,” Tony grumbled, hobbling slowly over to Steve, thanks to the swelling of his big toe from the not one, but _two_ mouse traps it had been caught in.

“Well, it’ll be different this time. We’ll start a big ol’ fire, we’ll star-gaze, and we won’t have to worry about any Cabal schemes getting in the way.”

“What about food? I’m hungry, Steve,” Tony whined, leaning into his boyfriend pathetically.

Steve didn’t push Tony away even though he, obviously, would have been able to work much faster without a genius, billionaire pressed up against him. He simply carried on with his work, now just seeming more mindful and gentle of his motions. “I’m going to fish for us, there’s a small pond just past those trees. Want to join me? I brought a rod for you, too.”

"I think I'll pass." Tony wrinkled his nose. He liked eating fish, sure, but actually catching them was a different story. "But what kind of fish are you going to catch? Salmon? Tuna? Can you maybe serve it with a side of quinoa, or-”

“-as much as I’d love to make a gourmet meal for you, darling, I don’t think that’ll be possible with the trout I catch. But don’t worry, you’ll love it,” Steve insisted. He knelt down, leaving Tony with no choice but to get off him, and he shoved the tent’s final stake in the ground. He clapped the dirt off his hands and stood back up. “Not too shabby, if I do say so myself. Alright, now we need a fire. You wanna look for wood while I go and catch our dinner?”

Tony really didn’t want to, but he couldn’t say no to Steve and his precious smile, at least, not without feeling like the biggest jerk in the world.

This was all making Steve happy, this was fun to him. He couldn’t be a spoilsport and ruin it, not with how much Steve always did for him. 

Steve never once complained about the countless hours he spent waiting for Tony to finish trying on Gucci shoes. Steve politely listened when Tony babbled on and on about the complexities of nanotech during many a dinner conversation, even though it probably sounded like a bunch of incoherent jargon to him. Steve always did everything he asked for and more, all with a handsome smile on his face.

Tony owed Steve; he owed him a lot.

“Alright, I can do that,” Tony agreed. “But don’t be long. I don’t want the cougars to eat you.”

“There aren’t any cougars in North Carolina. You should know that, Mr. Genius.”

“Tech genius, thank you very much,” Tony said, placing a heavy emphasis on the word ‘tech’. “And in case you haven’t noticed, this isn’t exactly my element.”

“I know.” Steve stepped forward, cupping the side of Tony’s face and kissing his forehead. “But I appreciate the effort you’re making for me. You’re the best, Tones.”

“Nah, I’m not the best, you are.” Tony stole one last kiss from Steve before they parted ways to complete their assigned tasks.

Steve wasted no time once he returned and got right to work on preparing their dinner. It took him a good few tries to get the fire started. He apologized incessantly every time he failed, like he somehow thought that Tony wouldn’t be impressed with him and his masculinity if he couldn’t start a fire with his bare hands. It was almost too endearing.

Tony was pleased to discover that trout, thankfully, tasted much better than it looked and looked. While it was far from the fancy, upscale yellowfin tuna that Tony was used to, it wasn’t the worst thing either. 

Steve even tried to make the meal extra special by seasoning the fish with what he deemed as ‘classy spices, just like in all of your favorite gourmet restaurants’. To Steve, ‘classy spices’ were paprika and a tiny pinch of ground pepper. It was hardly what would constitute as extravagant, elegant seasonings to most renowned chefs, but to Tony, it was just darling.

Once they finished eating the fish, Steve pulled out a big bag of marshmallows for them to roast over the fire. It was painfully cute and domestic, but aptly appropriate for them, the couple that made everyone around them sick with their adorable tendencies.

“I’ve never roasted marshmallows, actually,” Tony said, piercing a plump one on a stick before putting it over the flames.

“Something the great Tony Stark /hasn’t/ done? Well, color me impressed!” Steve said smugly, sliding his arm around Tony and bringing him close.

Tony rolled his eyes, cuddling right back up against Steve. “Contrary to popular belief, I haven’t done _everything_ , despite being an adventurous billionaire. There’s a lot that I’ve done today alone that I never imagined I would ever do.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Willingly step inside an RV that was at its prime forty years ago, for one,” Tony began, gesturing back at the Winnebago From Hell. “Peeing in a 7-11, listening to more facts than I ever wanted to know about five different states and the District of Colombia, stepping on two mouse traps, and eating trout with some _very_ fancy spices.”

“Well, when you put it like that, I guess today was pretty eventful.” Steve pulled his stick away from the fire, blowing on the marshmallow to cool it down. He didn’t take a bite of it himself; he offered it to Tony, because he was Steve Rogers, and he was just so considerate and doting like that. “It means a lot to me that you agreed to this trip, Tony. I know that this really isn’t your thing-”

“-Definitely not my thing,” Tony interjected, biting at the marshmallow that was offered to him.

“Yes, yes, definitely not,” Steve agreed, hoisting Tony up to sit in his lap. “But I’m glad you took a chance and came along. This is something special to me, getting to see the country I defend and represent every day, and there’s no one I’d rather do it with than you.”

Once again, Steve proved he really did have a way with words. 

“Thank you for inviting me to come. I know I can be...difficult.” Tony said, his words making Steve snort. Tony couldn’t blame him, he knew that was easily the understatement of the year. “But I love seeing you happy, even if we have very different ideas of fun.”

Steve grinned, leaning in closer, his lips hovering above Tony’s. “Actually, my idea of fun is anytime I’m around you, regardless of the scenery.”

Tony smirked. “It’s funny, I was just thinking the same thing. Maybe our ideas aren’t so different after all…”

“Maybe not,” Steve breathed against Tony’s lips. “I love you, Tony.”

“I love you too.”

Steve kissed Tony. It was a sticky kiss, thanks to the layer of sugar on both their lips from the marshmallows, and yet, the kiss itself still managed to be sweeter than their roasted treats could ever be. The stickiness also warranted a good reason for it to linger, though it wasn’t like Steve and Tony needed or sought excuses for long, eager kisses; that was pretty much their default. 

Despite the throbbing of his big toe, the uncomfortable amount of sweat all over his body, the neon orange stains on his fingertips, the soreness of his shoulder from the cruel game of Punch Buggy, and the mosquitos that were treating him as an all-you-can-eat buffet, it all felt worth it for Tony at that moment.

Tony recalled Steve's earlier words as they parted from their kiss - 'it's about the journey over the destination'. And yeah, maybe there was some truth to that. Maybe, just maybe, this journey wasn’t going to be so bad at all. So long as he had Steve at his side, Tony had a feeling that it was going to be one worth taking.

He pulled back, resting against Steve’s chest as they both gazed up at the clear night’s sky. “Are you going to tell me the fact that I missed about North Carolina, sweetie?”

“Pepsi Cola was invented in New Bern, North Carolina in the year 1898.”

Tony smiled. He couldn’t wait to hear the remaining forty-one facts.

**Author's Note:**

> All of Steve's fun facts came from [this website](https://www.50states.com/facts/). I'm honestly not sure if they are all 100% accurate, so I apologize if any of them are incorrect.
> 
> If you are curious about the route Steve and Tony are following, [this is what I was using as a basis](https://thebolditalic.com/this-is-the-perfect-u-s-road-trip-according-to-scientists-the-bold-italic-san-francisco-66cd5091ed8f) \- almost 14,000 miles, over nine days of driving, and stops only at key national landmarks for each state! Now you see why Steve has them sticking to that tight schedule.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Ride By My Side (the Old West remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17890295) by [runningondreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/runningondreams/pseuds/runningondreams)




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